wit, duly measured
by justjoy
Summary: "You know, your Hat tried to put me in Slytherin," said Haibara apropos of nothing, because she clearly had a radar for when Conan was actually trying to work on something for once.
1. wit, duly measured

"You know, your Hat tried to put me in Slytherin," said Haibara apropos of nothing, because she clearly had a radar for when Conan was actually trying to _work_ on something for once.

She was sitting among a small forest of books in the little alcove at the window, as was quickly becoming her customary spot; he wasn't sure if the Tower made her feel claustrophobic somehow, or if Haibara just enjoyed casting a looming shadow over everyone that much.

"First off – in case you didn't notice, Hogwarts is your school too now," he pointed out, with an added _unfortunately_ under his breath. "So you turned the Sorting Hat down?"

"No, I tricked everyone into hearing Ravenclaw so that I could barge into this Common Room of yours without reason," she answered in a deadpan that suggested she'd heard every word he said; he'd meant her to, anyway. "Of course I turned it down. Don't be daft, Edogawa-kun."

That... wasn't something he'd necessarily put past her, but something in her tone made him look up anyway. "What, green looks terrible on you or something? I didn't figure you as one of those who'd buy into House stereotypes."

"I don't know, Hattori-kun seems to embody Gryffindor's perfectly well," Haibara observed critically.

He snorted at that; Hattori was a great friend, he really was, but some things couldn't be argued with. "Says the Ravenclaw who does Mastery-level work for _fun_ ," he retorted on principle anyway, which earned him a missile of conjured feathers that was barely started deflected by the chain of Eihwaz runes twining across the parchment in front of him.

Conan glared balefully at the mostly-failed ward and resisted the urge to bang his head on the table. Ancient Runes, especially in defensive uses, had always been more Ran's thing than his, and he was seriously considering signing up for some other subject in third year if (Merlin forbid) it really came to that again.

He really, really hoped it didn't.

"Do you think it's too early to start turning these in for extra credit?" Haibara asked with every ounce of overachieving nonchalance, so much that he almost didn't catch it when she continued. "And besides, wanting to finish my parents' research at all costs is basically what got me – got us – into this mess in the first place, so..."

Conan gave up; his forehead hit the table with a reverberating thunk. "I _knew_ I should've just stuck with Gryffindor again," he grumbled.

"Beware the perils of ambition," said Haibara sagely, patting his shoulder without sympathy before sauntering off, probably to find Mitsuhiko and the others and impart more wisdom about _Wingardium Leviosa_ than a bunch of first years really ought to know in the first week of classes.

At least _he_ only had his OWLs, although how he was going to go from halfway-to-NEWTs to... whatever it was that first years (even a half-blood with prior exposure to magic) could do, he had seriously no idea.

Conan muffled his groan against the cool surface of the table, and wondered if Professor Kobayashi would take him seriously if he warned her that someone in her class _already_ _held_ a double mastery in Charms and Potions to start with. Or let him test out of her class, failing that.

Probably not, on either count.

It was already shaping up to be a _fun_ year. Conan had no idea how he was going to survive it.

* * *

 **END**

* * *

 _before anyone asks: this is just for the AU lolz and will **not** be expanded on. _

_(anyway_ _mitsuhiko's also in ravenclaw but i figure the others for gryffs or puffs probably)_


	2. mirror, mirror

_(or, the Mirror of Erised.)_

* * *

"Ooh, ooh, I know!" exclaimed Genta excitedly, for the third time. "Do you see yourself winning the Quidditch Cup, Conan-kun?"

Mitsuhiko's expression had gained the slightest edge of bemusement. "First years aren't allowed on the team, Genta-kun, no matter how good a flier Conan-kun is. And not to mention, if he really did win the cup that'd mean Ravenclaw's victory over Gryffindor, do you really want Hattori-niichan screaming bloody murder in the halls?"

"Besides," added Ayumi, though her look of longsuffering was clearly for quite another reason altogether, "Ayumi doesn't think that Conan-kun's constantly obsessed with Quidditch like you!"

"Indeed, he thinks about other things. Like… hmm, a Holmes collection in pristine first editions?" mused Haibara pointedly aloud as she circled around behind him, before adding in a mutter, "I'm sure Mouri-san will plan your wedding better than a mirror can, Edogawa-kun."

"Th– _you–_ " spluttered Conan eloquently, but he turned to glare at her only to find her looking slightly away.

Only the mirror's blank face stood behind him, so…

But Haibara heard the question before he could even ask. "None of your business," she answered shortly, and her gaze swept back across, caught that silvery surface only for a moment, then she too swept from the room herself. "We're leaving, Ayumi-chan, I heard the Professor found a kneazle by the greenhouses this morning!"

(Even Genta was staring slightly now, and Mitsuhiko slowly asked "…was it something I said?"

Conan sighed, and scrubbed a hand over his face. "No, this one's on me," he said tiredly. "C'mon, let's get that Charms essay done before they get back, Haibara's probably annoyed enough to rip mine to shreds anyway.")

* * *

 **END**


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